Haunting Revenge
by Erin Giles
Summary: England, 2001. The past has a habit of creeping up on Rupert Giles. But this time it turns up on his doorstep, and it’s out for revenge. Please R
1. Chapter 1

**TITLE**: Haunting Revenge  
  
**AUTHOR**: Erin Giles   
  
**RATING**: PG-13   
  
**DISCLAIMER**: None of the characters from Btvs belong to me. They are the property of Joss Whedon, UPN, ME, etc etc. I do however own Joanne So :P   
  
**DISTRIBUTION**: Fanfiction.net and HeadQuarters, other than that please have the courtesy to ask before taking!   
  
**SUMMARY**: England, 2001. The past has a habit of creeping up on Rupert Giles. But this time it turns up on his doorstep, and it's out for revenge.   
  
**NOTES**: Set after Tabula Rasa. I know he said he had a small flat in Bath but we'll just ignore that minor detail shall we?   
  
**FEEDBACK**: Do you want me to get on my knees and beg? Okay then… *gets down on knees and begs* Please, please, please, please, PLEASE give me feedback!   
  
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***~*~*~*~* Chapter 1 *~*~*~*~***   
  
Rupert Giles pulled his jacket around him as he walked down the darkening streets of the little village that he had lived in for all those years ago as a child. He had been to the only small pub in the village and was now making his way home through the wet, cold and lonely streets back to his family house.   
  
There had been a power cut in the village earlier in the night and everyone had seemed to congregate in the small pub, with only candles and the fireplace for light as people sat in huddled groups, whispering to each other as if conspiring.

Giles as usual had kept himself to himself, preferring his own company and misery, only bothered once by one of the patrons looking for a spare chair. As usual he was debating whether leaving Sunnydale had been a wise decision and as usual he was left divided. On the outside it appeared that he had made the right decision; he could convince himself Buffy was coping just fine without him, yet deep down he knew otherwise. He knew that it would be hard for her to stand on her own two feet without stumbling and falling but she had to learn. Leaving her didn't ease the pain of knowing she was this way but it was the only way things would ever change.  
  
He speeded up his pace and reached the gate at the bottom of the drive. His family's house was on the edge of the village and by far the biggest there. He lifted the latch on the gate and opened it. It squeaked loudly straining against the effort, it had after all been out of use for over thirty years at least. He was surprised that not one person had shown any interest in the house; it was after all a beautiful house. Yet there seemed to be something about it that every time someone entered the house they looked about nervously. Giles didn't have a problem with the house at all though. It was home to him and always would be.   
  
He walked across the gardens to the house and up the steps to the old front door. He pulled the keys out his pocket and opened the door as the rain bounced harder off the porch roof. He was glad to be getting inside away from the cold and the rain. The heating was on but it still took a lot to heat such an old large house.   
  
Giles pulled his soaking wet jacket from round his shoulders and hung it over the coat rack. He ran his fingers through his sodden hair and went into the study at the back of the house. It was already fairly warm in there compared to the rest of the house, but Giles lit a fire in the fireplace there to heat up the room more. He planned on staying up a bit longer, he had no reason to get up early tomorrow and he had no desire of going to bed at the moment. He knelt down beside the fire once he had lit it, and rubbed his hands warming them as steam rose off his soaking wet clothes. He pulled his jumper off and hung it over the clothes rack beside the fire to dry off and kicked his shoes off putting them beside the fire too. He pulled his socks off that stuck to his feet and hung them over the clothes rack too.   
  
With his clothes steaming nicely beside the fire he went over to his father's desk and picked up a book he had been reading since he had got home from America last week. The rest of the study was piled with boxes full of books he had brought back from the states. It seemed odd to be bringing them home. Most of them he had left at the Magic Box to be used by Buffy and everyone for research purposes, but there were a few he had brought home. The boxes lying about and the clothes hanging by the fire reminded him of the day the watcher's council had relocated due to the flooding of the old headquarters. His father had been sent home with a large amount of books, and now most of them lined the wall of the study.   
  
*~*~*~*~*

  
**_13th September 1961_**_  
  
  
  
"No, you're going to smash it…"   
  
"Smash what? There's nothing to smash… just these bloody books." The box dropped on the gravel drive with a thud,   
  
"See, nothing to smash!"   
  
"No, but Mr. Travers won't be happy if his books are all wet." The young man picked up the box rather hastily but the bottom was already soaking,   
  
"What difference is it going to make, it's raining!" The young watcher's had been sent from the council to transport the books into the Giles residence.   
  
The weather was miserable and Rupert had been sent outside by his father to get him out of the way of transporting the books. He had come round from the back of the house and watched the men drop the box, he then cast his eyes over the front of the house and caught his grandmother standing at her window and dashed round the back of the house and into the woods there.   
  
Rupert ran in amongst the trees for at least an hour digging in the ground and doing what every little boy did when they were young. The rain still lashed down but it didn't bother Rupert.   
  
It started to grow dark and Rupert went to the back of the house to be let in, he was bothered by the weather now. He stood there shivering from head to toe on the back step, he was drenched and had been for the past three hours. No one came to the door to let him so he continued to stand there, not daring to go round to the front of the house.   
  
After half an hour and still no answer, he went round to the front of the house and as he passed the dining room he saw candles and the fire burning bright inside. Mr. Travers car was out the front of the house and Rupert hoped that he hadn't brought that mean boy of his, who was seven years Rupert's senior. Mr. Travers boy had always been mean to him and no one believed what Rupert said the day Quentin had thrown his fire truck in the river down the back of the house. Rupert had been punished for losing it, especially after he had been told not to take it outside.   
  
As he was looking in the window on tiptoes his grandmother came to the window and stopped, standing there. Rupert gasped and pulled back from the window, he was in trouble now.   
  
He turned from the window and ran round the back of the house and into the woods as a maid came to the back door calling his name,   
  
"Master Giles!" Then he heard his mother's voice,   
  
"Rupert?" he waited for his father's voice but it never came, and he kept running. He ran into the woods and hid behind his special tree as the rain continued to pour down soaking him, and he continued to shiver madly. His eyes closed as he continued to shiver, he was alone, and cold, and scared.   
  
It was one of the maids who eventually found him, almost unconscious behind the tree. He was ill for over a week with hypothermia and his mother had blamed his father for it. They had rowed about the council, although then Rupert had no idea what the council was. He had heard them while he sat in the study wrapped up in blankets with the boxes pilled around him and his clothes hung over the rail steaming._  
  
*~*~*~*~*  
  
Just like they did now, he remembered being ill and he had never understood why he had run away; he wasn't scared of his mother or the maid, or even his father. He had never seen eye to eye with the man but that was no reason to be scared of him. Giles pulled the rug from the back of the couch that sat in the study and sat himself down on the sofa. He opened the book from where he had stopped last time and continued to read. About half way down the page there was a knock at the door, not the front door but the door to the study. Giles listened for a moment and then shook it off thinking he was hearing things, but then a second knock came followed by a voice,   
  
_"Mr. Giles?"_   
  
He pulled himself from the couch silently and went towards the door pulling it open, but the hall was empty. Puzzled, Giles went out into the hall and looked about. It was deserted apart from the flicker of the fire coming form the study. He turned back to go into the study and the door slammed too with a force that could have brought it off its hinges; but the door stayed intact. Giles tried to pry the door open again, but it was locked,   
  
_"He's ill; you know he's ill, and yet you still go out."_   
  
Giles whirled on the spot as he heard his mother's voice. The hall was dark now that the study door had closed, but then there was a light flickering at the top of the stairs and he could see shadows dancing on the landing above. Giles stepped on the bottom step as the voices continued to talk,   
  
_"He'll be fine. He's a strong lad. And I will be back by Friday. This is important." __  
  
"Everything's important with you,"_   
  
The voices were coming nearer but Giles could still not see anything,   
  
_"Everything except your son." __  
  
"Polly, take my bags out to the car."_   
  
Giles turned on the second stair as the door blew open. The floorboards creaked beneath his feet even though he did not move. Giles was becoming scared. He had heard this conversation before,   
  
_"Go then! Your mother and I will look after your son…" _  
  
The last few words echoed off the walls as the wind blew in the door and extinguished the candle that had been lit at the top of the stairs he heard a car drive off, and he raced for the door, slamming it shut.   
  
Giles heart was pounding in his chest, as his knees gave way and he sank to the floor, leaning against the door. That was the last time he had heard his father's voice, before… Giles didn't want to finish that thought. He knew where it led. His heart continued to pound as there was a pounding on the door and Giles almost jumped six feet in the air. He stopped breathing for a moment before he realized how silly he was being, and pulled himself to his feet, still breathing heavily and his legs shaking under him. He tried to compose himself slightly, as the pounding sounded again. He unlocked the large bolted door and pulled it open slowly. He expected to see Mr. Travers Senior there with the grave news, but it wasn't. A young girl stood in the porch, drenched to the skin,   
  
"Joanne?" he said looking at her, rather shocked. Joanne had been a resident at the council almost since she was born. The girl looked up at Giles teeth chattering,   
  
"Hi!" she said hugging herself, as Giles stood there staring at her for a moment,   
  
"Can I come in? It's a bit wet." She said looking back at the weather she had just come through, her soft London accent coming through. Giles suddenly came to and stepped back,   
  
"Of course." He took Joanne by the arm and helped her into the hall, then stuck his head out the door looking about, expecting to see that black Austin thirteen with Mr. Travers and son sat in front, but there was nothing in the drive, and the gate wasn't even open. He closed the door over and turned back into the hall the study door was open again, just as he had left it, before -   
  
"Giles? Are you okay?" Giles was brought back from where he was standing, staring at the study door,   
  
"Yes -" his eyes turned up the stairs; the candle at the top of the stairs was alight again. He turned to Joanne,   
  
"Let's get you dry and you can tell me why you're all the way over here." Giles led Joanne into the study and sat her down on the couch. He looked at her bag, which she placed down on the floor and opened up. She took out what looked to be a jumper, but it wasn't exactly clear. All her clothes and belongings in the bag were soaked through. She looked up at him apologetically,   
  
"I'll go get you some dry clothes." Giles turned out the room still very shaken, and padded up the stairs with his bare feet. He reached the landing and turned into the first room on the left. It had been his mother's room, and he had chosen to sleep in it since it was the closest to the stairs and the one that he had always liked most. Giles went into the wardrobe and pulled out his bathrobe, a pair of pyjamas and a jumper for himself. He closed the wardrobe and went to the window to pull the curtains over, and then he heard crying, a loud sobbing coming from downstairs. He finished closing the curtains and pulled the jumper over his head as he came back downstairs. He went into the study again,   
  
"Joanne? What's the matter? Why are you crying?" Joanne looked up at Giles from where she had sat herself beside the fire and already stripped herself of her shoes, socks, wet jacket and jumper,   
  
"I wasn't crying." Joanne said looking at Giles oddly,   
  
"Giles are you sure you're okay?" Giles handed her the clothes,   
  
"Yes, quite sure thank you." He looked round the room and nothing looked out of place,   
  
"Tea? Or coffee? I might be out of coffee at the moment though -" Joanne looked up at him with her striking green eyes,   
  
"Tea's fine!" she smiled at him, her teeth still chattering and turned back to the fire. Giles left the room again and went into the kitchen switching the light on. He pulled mugs from the cupboard and put the kettle on the stove to boil.   
  
Giles had spent the time he had in the last week tiding up the rooms that he planned to use. It mainly consisted of four rooms, a bathroom, the study, kitchen, and his mother's bedroom. It hadn't taken Giles that long to make the house habitable in those four rooms. But already he had started work on other rooms in the house clearing them out, and finding memories of the forgotten past. He had been into his room and found forgotten treasures. He had never taken the time to clear out the rooms in the house when it was given to him and his mother had always lived in a few rooms of the house until she too sadly passed when he was forty-two. He had never wanted to touch the house, to change it, for fear of forgetting what had been. And so the house had stayed in this state for several years. Giles hadn't put it up on the market until he had been stationed in America. Several people had seemed interested in the house at first but as soon as they went to view it they quickly decided against the idea of moving in.   
  
Giles searched for the teabags in the cupboard and poured himself a cup of Earl Grey to go with Joanne's, and picked them up. He flicked the light switch with his elbow and then made his way back to the study very carefully, and quietly. He didn't go straight in, but stood outside, his eyes searching for something, as he spoke,   
  
"Joanne? Are you decent?" Giles had his back to the door as he spoke and jumped when the door opened behind him, almost spilling the tea all over himself and the floor. Joanne stood there, hair tied back now, still soaking wet,   
  
"Giles?"   
  
"Tea!" Giles said handing her a deep red cup with the writing 'His lordship' on the side, before he dropped it. His hands were shaking badly. Joanne took the cup from him, not even bothering to make a joke about the writing and Giles came into the study shutting the door behind him and sitting himself down on the couch before he fell over. He put his cup on the table and left it there, staring at it for a while,   
  
"Giles, are you positive you're okay? I mean, you don't look so good -" Joanne sat down next to the man and looked at him concerned, as a friend should be. Joanne watched the features of a man she had come to know and care for all those years ago. Everyone at the Watcher's council had taken care of her since she was small, but she had grown fond of Giles', more than the other watcher's. She had become close to him growing up and when she had been told at the age of ten that Giles had become the watcher to the new slayer and had to move to America, she hadn't taken the news too well,   
  
"Giles, you look as though you've seen a ghost.' she said joking, but immediately Giles' head flipped round to look at her. His face was white and his eyes looked as though they might pop out his head any minute. His face changed from a look of horror to that of a warm comforting smile, that she knew so well,   
  
"So what brings you to see me after all these years?" Giles hadn't seen the girl in nearly seven years, but somehow she hadn't changed at all. She hadn't become stuffy or snobby as so many people from the Watcher's council did. Even Giles himself had been that way at one point, but Sunnydale and Buffy had changed everything. Joanne's face turned down at that point, she curled her feet underneath herself and hugged her mug close to her,   
  
"Well I did originally come just to visit you, but then the council sent me on business." Giles looked slightly taken aback,   
  
"You're already working for the council?" Joanne nodded,   
  
"But you're only -" Giles tried to work out the numbers in his tired head,   
  
"Sixteen." she filled in for him, "They started me working as soon as they could. You know the council, all work and no play!" she sighed heavyhearted.   
  
Giles and Joanne continued to talk about the council for what remained of the night and it wasn't until the early hours of the morning that Giles managed to lay his head down on a pillow. He had given Joanne his room as a child. It was still pretty cluttered with boxes, but it was habitable. Now after hearing what Joanne had been up to since he had last seen her nearly seven years ago he got back thinking about what had happened before Joanne had appeared at the door. The voices he had heard, the things he had seen and remembered now that had been said and done long ago. It was like a feeling of déjà vu and he didn't like it. He didn't have long to remain fixed on his thoughts before he drifted off to sleep.

*~*~*~*~*

So what do you think? I you want we to right more please give me incentive to, and ideas would also be good!

Thanks. *Kiwi*

 __


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**: I'm getting through this slowly, but please realise that the outline for it was written a long time ago and I actually only found it last week! Was dying slowly on my old computer so I thought I could let it live for a while longer and be appreciated more. That's why the earlier parts might seem a little different in style to my normal writing. Anyway thank you for the review Andciritien and here is the more you're looking for!

   
***~*~*~*~* Chapter 2 *~*~*~*~***   
  
Joanne looked round at the room in the dark. It looked like a child's nursery, with puppets hung on hooks on the wall and a rocking horse in the corner. On the floor beneath the rocking horse was a box of soldiers that were obviously extremely old and they intrigued Joanne.   
  
Giles had shown her to her room and told her where his was if she should need him and then he had left for bed, yawning on the way out of the room. She had put her bag on the floor at the bottom of the bed and then slipped into the large bed to warm up. Even though it was a child's bed it was rather large for a child. She didn't feel tired so she pulled herself from beneath the warm covers and slipped Giles dressing gown on over her and went to the toy soldiers picking one of them up. They reminded her of the play the nutcracker she had been taken to see as a child, and she had some vague memory of being scared of that play. She didn't know why, she put the nutcracker soldier back down just as there was running in the corridor outside. She looked to the door as if expecting it to burst open any minute, but the footsteps stopped and Joanne wondered if it was Giles,   
  
"Giles?" she called out moving to the door. She turned the handle and opened it, but no one stood in the hall. She stepped out into the corridor and looked both ways, but the house was quiet and no lights were on. She heard running down the other end of the corridor and she turned and started walking away from the stairs,   
  
"Giles?" Giles room wasn't this way, but she wondered why he was out of bed and running about at this time of night.   
  
'Maybe he walks in his sleep?' Joanne thought smiling to herself. She knew one of the younger watcher's that used to it and when they were on night duty Joanne used to slip out of her room and go down to the lobby and wait until he fell asleep and then she would watch him make a prat of himself.   
  
One morning she had almost followed him all the way to the bakery on the end of the street. But that was a long time ago and she couldn't recall the name of that watcher now. She got to where there was a bend in the corridor and stairs went off to the right up to the attic and the servants' quarters,   
  
"Gil-" she was cut short as running footsteps started coming towards her from behind,   
  
_"Ma'am"_  
  
Joanne jumped and turned round, but there was no one there. She stopped herself from freaking out as the footsteps started going away from her again, this time two pairs,   
  
_"It's Mr. Giles ma'am."_   
  
Joanne followed the voices breaking into a jog and followed them downstairs. The front door lay open as the rain lashed in on the hall floor. Joanne went to close it but it slammed shut before she reached it. She jumped away from it as another door opened and she ran to it, as someone pushed her inside and she fell to her knees. She pulled herself to her feet as quickly as possible and looked round the room, it was empty apart from the voices that she could hear, talking, arguing in her head it seemed. She turned back to the door and tried to pull it open, but it was locked shut. She pulled at the door handle then it came open sharply and Joanne went flying backwards across the room. She smashed into a grand piano and the lid slammed shut over the keys. When Joanne pulled herself into a sitting position rubbing her head the door was closed again,   
  
_"- your fault Mr. Travers. Something could have been done." __  
  
__"Nothing could have been to stop what -" __  
  
__"You didn't have to send him, you yourself could have been sent. Or even one of the younger watcher's this was not a job for -" __  
  
__"Your husband was the only one with enough experience for this matter Mrs. Giles. I'm sorry that -"_  
  
The door flung itself open again as Joanne got back to her feet for the second time and she rushed for the door which slammed in her face. She felt a shiver run up her spine as she whirled round facing the rest of the room,   
  
_"Ah Margaret, how are we -" __  
  
__"Am I hearing right Mr. Travers?"_   
  
An old woman's voice resounded in Joanne's head and it chilled her to the bones.   
  
_"Yes I'm very sorry to bring -" __  
  
__"You're not Mr. Travers; I know this for a fact. It was planned for my son to go abroad, yet you didn't want him killed. Injured yes, but not killed. It seems to have turned out wrong -" __  
  
__"I don't know -"_  
  
The curtains in the room pulled themselves shut and the room fell into darkness. The lights flickered on for a moment, even though Joanne remembered Giles saying the power was out for the whole village earlier on, then all the light bulbs popped one by one. Joanne screamed and ducked as the glass shattered above her head. She moved away from the wall into the middle of the room, towards the piano again, listening, but the voices had gone and she could no longer hear them. Then the books started to fly off the few bookcases that were in the room smashing the glass in the glass fronted ones. Some flew through the window and out into the garden, flying open at random pages, until one dropped before her and flicked through until it found a specific page. Joanne bent to look at the picture and the description beside it, which was in Latin. She read it,   
  
"Anala demons prefer warm regions and tend to reside in such places as Africa and southern Asia. They kill there victims by cutting them to shreds with the knife like fingers and teeth they posses. They then devour their victims which will last them another week until they find another human worthy of eating." The book snapped shut once she had finished reading and flew out the window with the others, and then suddenly the room went silent,   
  
_"Now do you remember Mr. Travers?"_   
  
The voice boomed out and then coldness swept over Joanne possessing the far reaches of her body, tingling in her fingers and toes and taking over her mind. She strode purposefully towards the door,   
  
"I think you should go Mr. Travers. I need to break the news to young Rupert."   
  
Joanne reached for the door that opened before her, and she swept out of the room, letting her feet take her and her mouth talk for her. She had lost all control of her bodily functions. She couldn't even breathe for herself. She tried to stop herself moving and stopped her feet in her tracks. She reached out for the banister and hooked her arm round it trying to stop herself travelling up the stairs, but she couldn't. Her arm bent the wrong way and she released her grip, continuing to travel up the stairs. 


	3. Chapter 3

***~*~*~*~* Chapter 3 *~*~*~*~***   
  
Giles rolled over in his sleep, squirming in the bed, and then he woke with a start as he heard a scream within the house. He thought that it was maybe Joanne dreaming, but he thought it best to check. He pulled himself from the bed and went to the door. He shivered as he reached for the handle and tried to pull the door open but it wouldn't budge. He heard something smashing, but he couldn't tell where it came from. He pulled on the handle again but it was still locked.   
  
He started pushing his shoulder against the door and it suddenly gave way.   
  
He crashed out onto the corridor and pulled himself to his feet.   
  
He scrambled down the corridor and went into Joanne's room, finding it empty, and no sign of a struggle. Just then he heard footsteps coming towards the room and he turned to go back out into the corridor,   
  
"Joanne?" he called, but she entered the room catching him off guard and he stepped back a couple of steps,   
  
"Rupert," Giles stopped breathing as he heard his grandmother's voice come from Joanne's lips,   
  
"Your father's dead. He died last night in an accident. Mr. Travers just came to tell us. Maybe you should go comfort your mother, she's in her room." Giles started to breathe again as Joanne moved out of the room. He tried to follow her, but the door slammed shut in his face, and when he tried the handle again it was locked. He could hear crying now, coming down the corridor into his room. His mother sobbing, and he tried even harder to pull the door open, but it wouldn't budge.   
  
Joanne's form made its way down the hall going into another room, which was dark and cluttered with various books and objects that were Magical. Suddenly Joanne felt herself parting in two and her physical form was thrown backwards into the wall and she felt something leaving her as it began to chant. Joanne's head ached from where it had banged off the wall, but she shimmied up it and tried to make her way round to the door. But some invisible force pushed her back down,   
  
_"You will bring back my son. You have watcher's blood in you even though you know not of it. You were brought to the council for a reason and that reason alone will bring back my son."_   
  
Joanne was suddenly brought to her feet rapidly and pinned against the wall by an invisible force that she could no longer fight,   
  
_"I needed you here, and I was losing hope of you coming, but I knew you would come for my grandson. So he was the bait, and now for being a part of this he will be rewarded as I shall be bringing my son and his father back for another chance to prove himself."_   
  
The woman started to chant in Latin and Joanne tried to wriggle free of the grip that held her but it was just too tight,   
  
_"I call thee Osirus, god of the underworld, I inflict on another what was inflicted on my son with the hope that you may take one for the other."_   
  
Joanne felt herself being cut open like finger nails being raked across her only they were sharper. They cut deep into her stomach and face, and she wanted to scream, but she couldn't. The pain was overwhelming and she could feel the blood running down her back and face. Her eyes leaked and she struggled to stay focused, the storm outside roared in satisfaction then it seemed to come inside as fingers and teeth continued to bite and scratch at her,   
  
_"I implore thee Osirus, take the worthy child and bring back my son."_   
  
Thunder clapped overhead as lightening bolts struck the roof and the windows smashed. Joanne felt herself travelling towards the window, and she tried to put her feet down to stop herself, she tried to reach out but the effort was too great. Soon enough she hovered in the bay window, looking down at the garden below.   
  
Giles heard the rain lashing against the roof as thunder sounded, and lightening struck a tree in the garden. He went to the window and watched a branch fall from it hitting the drive, and covering most of it. He grabbed the coat rack that stood in the room and rammed it against the door, trying to break it open. He pushed in with the coat rack and tried to kick it down, which succeed in removing it from its hinges. Giles broke out into the corridor and looked up and down calling for Joanne. Flashes were coming from underneath his grandmother's door to her room. He had never got into the room because it had always been locked and no one had ever found the key too it. He now presumed that the key was buried with his grandmother, but he could hear something coming from within the room and he presumed Joanne was in there. Only she wasn't alone. He was sure he had heard his grandmother's voice come form the lips of Joanne and he knew she would never play a trick like that.   
  
'This was no trick.' He thought as thunder clapped loudly overhead again and he heard glass smash as lightening flashed. He headed towards his grandmother's room and reached for the door handle, but as his fingers touched it the door flew open and Giles felt himself being pulled into the room,   
  
_"Rupert, so glad you could join us for the ceremony."_   
  
He could hear his grandmother's voice but it wasn't coming from the lips of Joanne, in was right beside him, and he could see Joanne hovering outside the window. He started to move towards her,   
  
"Joanne -" he called,   
  
_"Move another step and I drop her Rupert. Now you wouldn't want that on your conscious would you? The fact that you had killed a young innocent person."_   
  
The door opened behind him and Giles turned.   
  
"Shame that it's already happened twice, aye Ripper." __


	4. Chapter 4

*~*~*~*~* Chapter 4 *~*~*~*~*   
  
Giles glared at Ethan Rayne as he stood in the doorway, outlined by the darkness in the hall, a stark contrast to his garish luminous green shirt. Giles fists clenched as he moved towards Ethan,   
  
"Now Ripper, what did I just finish saying." He heard Joanne screaming and he turned back to the window, her figure was gone. He ran to the window and saw that she had dropped; now hanging inches above the ground. Giles turned back to Ethan,   
  
"Let her go, whatever you've got planned this time Ethan, leave the innocent out of it." Ethan walked into the room a few steps and Giles glanced back out the window, seeing Joanne rising up again to be level with the window,   
  
"Well you see Rupert old man," he sighed and clasped his hands in front of him,   
  
"She's not very innocent our Joanne." He smiled as he watched Giles face, and then looked past him at Joanne,   
  
"Are you Jo?" Joanne's eyes went wide as she watched Ethan, she knew who he was and she wished she had never got involved with him in the first place, she had later been warned about Ethan Rayne, yet she only wished it had been earlier she had been warned. Her eyes pleaded with Ethan not to tell Giles but Ethan just smiled back at her,   
  
"O dear. Not very good at keeping secrets am I?" Giles looked between the unlikely team,   
  
"Joanne?" he said looking at her, but all she could do was make apologetic eyes at him. Giles turned on Ethan and Ethan smiled back,   
  
"Wanting a little bedtime reading?" he asked mockingly. Giles continued to advance,   
  
"Tell me what you've done." He said through gritted teeth, as he launched himself at Ethan, but the screaming of Joanne stopped him before he lashed out. He pulled away from Ethan as he heard a dull thud. He went to the window,   
  
"Joanne -" he whispered, feeling dread well up in him, knowing that he had been the cause of her now lying on his drive, but as he watched her she moved. Ethan sighed and moved towards Giles,   
  
"Now are you willing to listen Rupert?" Giles stood where he was and Ethan continued,   
  
"I met young Joanne in a pub. The one down the road none the less. I believe you were there tonight?" he said smiling as he watched Giles expression change,   
  
"She was feeling rather lonely and she told me that she was fed up with the Academy she attended. She wished she could get her revenge. And to cut a long story short she got her revenge, nasty buggers vampires are. Scandal about London gang rivalry coming further north to Hampshire." Giles eyes went wide,   
  
"Nothing like a little Magic and Chaos to kick start the day. Although Jo here was caught in the thrall too; got a little mixed up with what was real and managed to lose one of her friends one night. Terrible tragedy." He waved his hand and Joanne flew back up to the window and through it. The window shutters closed behind her, catching Giles hands there. Giles face contorted in pain and Ethan smiled,   
  
"Sorry." He said before the shutters opened just enough for Giles to get his bleeding knuckles out.   
  
"But then I don't really mean that Rupert, mate." He emphasized the mate bit as Joanne dropped to the floor behind them both in an untidy heap, clearly unconscious,   
  
"Two years of bloody hell the Initiative put me through Rupert. You really think a man would forget that?" Ethan asked, advancing on Giles, somewhat different from the spineless weasel Giles had come to know and hate so well,   
  
"I was actually hoping you would remember it. A little memento of me when you finally reach hell." Giles retorted as Ethan began to chuckle, smiling back at his once fellow wizard, obviously in on some joke he was no doubt about to gloat about,   
  
"I think it will be you needing the memento, Rupert buddy." Giles stood there slightly confused for a moment as the storm continued to rage outside and Ethan's slight chuckles became manic laughter that rang throughout the house. He heard his grandmother's voice booming out loudly and clearly again, chanting in Latin, and pleading to the god of the underworld to bring back her son to her.   
  
"I call thee Osirus, god of the underworld, I inflict on another what was inflicted on my son with the hope that you may take one for the other."   
  
The windows shattered open again as he launched himself forward into an attack on Ethan as Joanne cried out in pain, still unconscious. He felt himself batted away from Ethan easily, into the wall by some unseen force. Giles pulled himself to his feet, going at Ethan with fists of fury,   
  
"What is this Ethan?" he called above the howling wind, pinning the foolish man against the wall,   
  
"Who's doing is this?"   
  
"Your grandmother." Ethan squeaked through a pained gasp for air,   
  
"No Ethan, the truth. What's this got to do with me?" There was a pause as Ethan considered his options as the storm continued to lash on, the chanting and screaming mingled in, creating background noise,   
  
"Ethan!" Giles demanded, slamming the man's head against the wall,   
  
"Ven- vengeance demon." Ethan finally croaked out,   
  
"Two in one deal." He finished as Giles dropped him and he landed with a thud on the floor. Ethan Rayne reverted to the coward he was as Giles ran to Joanne's aid. He was within a foot of her when he was swept to the side by an invisible hand. When he pulled himself from the bottom of the wall, the sight of a vengeance demon met him.   
  
So this was what Anya had once looked like when she had been Anyanka, vengeance demon to scorned women? He admitted that she was rather unattractive.   
  
"I implore thee Osirus," she said one more time, her voice eerily like his grandmothers, but the demon looked nothing like her as her head reeled back in an menacing laugh before she reared back and disappear into thin air,   
  
"Wish granted." She said menacingly as Giles watched the empty space, confused, before stealing a look at Joanne who had now come to rest curled up on herself, looking far from peaceful. Ethan, on the other hand, was smiling mischievously.   
  
"Hell hath no fury…" Ethan mumbled under his breath, a smile spreading onto his face as he recoiled further against the wall, waiting for his wish to play out and leave him with the satisfaction of revenge, able to move on and cause more chaos.   
  
The shutters on the window shattered into the room, the wind and rain lashing in through the gaping hole in the wall as Giles tried to make his way towards Joanne but soon found his feet dragging along the ground as he was pulled towards the window.   
  
He caught one last look at the room as he clung desperately to the windowsill before he was dropped fifteen feet to the ground. He landed with a painful thud; face down on the muddy drive. He rolled over as the rain pelted down on him and saw the familiar face of his grandmother looking down at him from her window above.   
  
He panicked then, the feeling of déjà vu that much stronger than before as he pulled himself to his feet, hastily, not registering the fact his body was protesting profusely against his movements. He ran from the front of the house, rounding the corner only to be faced with the grotesque face of a vampire.   
  
Giles stared for a moment, but it was a moment too long as the vampire retracted his arm before wielding down on Giles. He stumbled back, stunned for a moment as vampires moved in from all sides.   
  
Vampires had always been a Sunnydale thing, a part of his life he had left behind; he had always told himself that. Yet he knew for a fact that vampires wandered. There were many tales of the infamous Angelus round the world, in China, Europe, America, Africa, yet he found it so hard to believe that there were vampires, here in the grounds of his home. They were allowed in the local graveyard, but not here in his childhood home; that was wrong.   
  
He was brought quite sharply away from his thoughts as another vampire slogged him in the jaw, his head snapping back. He regained his footing before he was hit again and blocked the next punch as vampires came at him from all angles as he tried to search desperately for a weapon.   
  
He could see 'his' tree a short distance away as he ducked another blow and swept the feet from under one of the demons, leaving him a path to run. He took off, his sodden pyjamas and jumper weighing him down as he ran on in bare feet. He stumbled over a root as he heard hungry growls behind him. He hit the ground again as a vampire rugby tackled him, leaving him spitting mud before it bore down on him. He elbowed it in the face as he rolled and kicked out, knocking down two more.   
  
The fight continued and he got no nearer to the tree, unable to find the time to pick up a piece of wood let alone find one. There was at least half a dozen of them, snarling, ravenous, staring for the kill. But Rupert Giles would not die here, not now, not when people needed him.   
  
_"Master Giles!"_   
  
He turned back towards the house, hearing that otherworldly voice, the one he heard so many years ago when he had run from the house, scared because he had been seen looking in the front window when his parents had company. The pause allowed a vampire to floor him and he smashed into the tree with a deafening crunch, whether it was him or the tree that had broken he wasn't sure, but he found a branch and was on his feet again in a matter of seconds, dusting what was a threat on his, and others lives.   
  
Lightening flashed overhead, thunder sounding almost immediately after as the rain continued to pound on him, making the fight so much harder. At least in California they very rarely had the rain to contend with when fighting vampires and demons. He took another blow, another fall, another drop of blood fell and another body part ached acutely, but he would not give up, he would not let Ethan Rayne win after all these years. He would not let the bastard have the satisfaction of knowing that he had beaten Rupert Giles.   
  
There were two left and Giles was tiring, growing weary with the night that surely had to end sometime, but as he glanced at the sky dawn was not in sight. Hope leaving with it as he dived behind the tree that had once been his safe haven, his home away from home. He paused for breath as he searched for his lost branch, grabbing it before rounding the tree again straight into a kick that knocked him backwards into the tree. He slouched there, dazed for a moment, feeling cold, lonely and insecure, like he was seven years old again, hiding in the rain from what would surely be a beating.   
  
_"Rupert!"_   
  
His mother. A voice he had not heard in so long; a voice he longed to hear again; a voice he longed to tuck him in at night, sing him a lullaby and say how much she loved him. But as his eyes rose to find the woman who had nurtured all his hopes and dreams he was met with the face of everything his fears and nightmares were made of.   
  
He was pulled to his feet by the throat, pinned against the tree that had once provided him protection, now only bringing him death and the darkness that unconsciousness brought.


End file.
